


Jellyfish

by sarasaurusrex



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, No Sex, Sleepiness, naked Chekov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:07:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarasaurusrex/pseuds/sarasaurusrex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scotty worries when Chekov doesn't come back up for air. How'd they get stuck in that cave anyway? More importantly, where are Chekov's clothes? Maybe aboard this fantastic new ship... Chekotty ahoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jellyfish

**Author's Note:**

> Chekov/Scotty has always intrigued me, especially in the reboot. Let's see where this goes... I'm planning on doing a follow up aboard the Enterprise as well, for some much needed action sequences *ahem*

"Eet collapsed behind us."

"I know, I know!"

"And eet will not budge."

"I know!"

"We are hundreds of meters from ze beam point. Zhey will newer know where to loook."

"Lad! Could you lighten up a bit? You're givin' me a headache."

Chekov stared shortly, making Scotty stop pacing.

"I'm going in zhere."

"No..." Scotty moved again, this time towards him.

"Zhere might be anuzzer entrance!"

"Over my bloated, dead _corpse_ you're going in there!" He pointed.

Chekov didn't budge, albeit grimaced at the imagery.

"Laddie, we dunnae know _what's_ down there! There could be eels the size o' your head, sharks the size o'... god help me... our lady the _Enterprise_..."

"In zhat _tiny_ hole?

"Jellyfish!"

Chekov sighed dramatically.

"With tentacles longer than the mores o' Scotland!"

"Do jellyfish hawe tentacles?"

"...Water breathing blood feasting abominations!"

"You are afraid of ze ocean."

"There could be bacteria, disease! The black plague! We don't know if the _air_ if safe on this planet!"

"Now you just sound like McCoy."

"Pavel!" He cried desperately.

Chekov stopped.

"It's a death sentence!"

"Well...!" He raised his arms, "We are going to die in _here_ zhen." He huffed, then sat himself down on a rock.

Scotty's expression softened, making him look defeated... scared. He looked away, staring at that cavernous opening at the end of tunnel. Dark, dense water sat eerily still, illuminated by the only light source in the tall cavern: cool glowing crystals jutting from the ceiling and floor. They were warm to the touch, but their light made Scotty feel like he was underwater. His skin crawled.

The cavern was dappled with puddles coloured by the iridescent light. The planet's surface was like that, too, but they couldn't figure out why. That is, until the ground broke beneath them. A rich forest of crystals dwelled just below the surface, revealing the source of the light visible from surface pools and ponds, but it seemed they'd landed in an air pocket, surrounded by cool rock and warm crystal, that dark opening the only connection to the outside world. Maybe.

Scotty sighed, "Alright, lad. But..." He looked at him seriously, "You'd better be back up here in a minute. If you're not, I dunnae what I'll do. Something stupid. We'll probably both end up dead, or worse." He assured him, ignoring the inscrutable look on Chekov's face. Chekov got back up, "If you don't feel a way back up in thirty seconds, head straight back. It'll take the same amount o' time to get back as it did to..."

"Okay! Okay, I kin do zhis." Chekov looked at him.

Scotty didn't realize he'd moved closer, "A...alright, lad. Just." He took a step back, "Be careful."

Chekov looked at him sympathetically, but then he suddenly looked like he was waiting for something.

"Uh..."

"Can you... turn around?" He asked politely, and Scotty realized he was taking his uniform off.

Scotty gaped, "Oh, oh right, yeah. O' course." He turned at once, putting his hands on his hips.

Chekov stood by the pool, taking a deep breath. He stripped his shirt off, trying to ignore just how cold it was underground. The planet had a sun, but its orbit was so long that it would take generations to see daylight. The neighboring planets provided blue-green light to the surface, hanging in the sky like moons, and the water glowed from beds of enormous crystals dwelling undertow, which also served to warm the planet to a life sustaining temperature, even at its most extreme orbit. Still, it was cold, even in the cavern where they were close to the crystals, and even the water, which Chekov didn't test out of fear of backing out. Once he was bare, he hopped in, exhaling in surprise.

"How is it?" Scotty turned back around at the sound.

"Fine." He said, keeping his head above the surface as he adjusted, "Warmer zhan ze air."

Scotty nodded, more to himself than to Chekov. It was probably just the light, but Chekov's skin looked blue in the water. His eyes fell to his bare shoulders.

Chekov took a deep breath.

"Wait! Wait!"

He let it out in a huff, "What?"

"Just... be careful."

Chekov wanted to be annoyed. He really did. But... he was scared. He nodded in quiet thanks, then took another deep breath, and disappeared beneath the surface.

The water seemed to swallow him up like a black hole. Scotty's heartbeat picked up. After about a second of him being gone, he was already regretting it. Somehow, in the midst of his worry, the image of Chekov's bare shoulders came into his mind, "Oy, keep it together, old man." He told himself.

He peered down into the water, the light hardly piercing it at all compared to the shallow pools. That meant it was deep, right? God, how could he let Chekov do this? _Chekov_. He was just a kid! He shouldn't be allowed to do half of the things he did aboard the Enterprise. And yet, he was, and he excelled. Hell, he'd taken over Scotty's own position before, and he'd saved Scotty and Jim's asses doing it (Literally, they fell over a catwalk - Scotty didn't like to talk about it). Scotty had nothing to worry about. Except... water breathing abominations.

Or the black plague.

"God! Damn! Mother o'...." He cursed, slumping against a crystal and running his hands over his short hair.

Chekov's prompt return scared him senseless.

Chekov gasped for air at the surface, seeing Scotty fall over himself and almost laughing.

"Wha... you scared me half to death! That was less that ten seconds!"

"I knew you would not miss me." Chekov smiled, not swimming to the ledge but just taking large breaths, and before Scotty could reply, "It goes back up in a few meters. I'm going back in."

" _Wait!_ "

" _What?_ " Chekov let out his breath. Again.

"Don't... scare me like that. God. And be careful!"

Chekov didn't reply. He took a big breath then disappeared again, like a goddamn soaking wet, curly headed tribble.

Scotty let out a huff of air, not sure why he'd been so startled. Suddenly, he realized how funny Chekov had looked with his hair all wet and hanging down his skin. And... he looked bluer that time. Was that Scotty's imagination? Damn. Was his last words to him going to be criticizing Chekov for coming back up too early? "Damnit!" He cursed aloud in what was becoming a routine - pacing back and forth by the pool and breathing a string of swears for about twenty seconds...

Twenty seconds.

Scotty looked back at the water. Chekov had been under for twice as long now. He suddenly wished Chekov would scare him again.

He didn't.

Scotty paced again, this time in silence.

Thirty seconds.

Thirty-five.

Forty...

Scotty's worry becoming more and more vindicated by the second, he stepped over to the pool, looking down apprehensively. Chekov said it went back up, what if he got stuck somewhere? No, Scotty couldn't think like that. Chekov probably found the exit.

Or a jellyfish...

Damnit! He told him a minute! How long had it been?

A gasp of air, and Scotty jumped. Again.

"God, lad!"

"It keeps... going up..." He panted, lips gasping for air and hands grasping the edge of the pool.

Scotty went to his side, "Lad, you're going to give me a heart-attack..." He pleaded.

"I'm going back in."

"W...!"

But before Scotty could get out another word, Chekov was gone.

He cursed, his voice echoing off the cavernous walls.

"This boy! I swear to god he's giving me grey hair!" He fumed, pacing fervently.

The temporary excitement was enough to keep his mind from darkness for another thirty seconds, but once he'd settled back down, he found himself staring at the water.

Forty.

Fifty.

A minute.

"Pavel." Scotty said aloud, as if he could hear him, "C'mon, lad, come back up."

Ten seconds.

Why did he let him go under again? _Again?_ _Three times._ He wasn't thinking about the captain or Chekov's parents or, god help him, the Enterprise. He was thinking about those shoulders. That hair stuck to the back of his neck. Chekov's eyelashes blinking water out of his eyes. The sliver of hip he saw before Chekov asked him to turn around... Scotty's heart throbbed. One minute thirty seconds.

"Damnit, lad!" He cried out, "Come up!"

A burst of air, this time, not liberated, but desperate.

"Oh thank the dilithium powered _gods._ " Scotty rushed to his side, forgetting about the water as he reached in and helped get Chekov out, a goal they finally seemed to share.

Chekov was gasping and coughing, nearly toppling into Scotty as he helped pull him out.

"Here, here, lad." Scotty breathed, removing his coat and putting it over Chekov's bare back.

Chekov held it to him gratefully, making a sound over the rock that sounded so much like a cry that Scotty's heart sank.

"I kin not... zhere was no way out... I am sorry...."

"Shh... none o' that." Scotty pulled him close, "You did your best. Hush..."

Chekov clutched Scotty's arm. He was trembling. That's when Scotty noticed it, Chekov's skin was much bluer than Scotty's, "Lad..." The water had felt warm, but the parts of Scotty's arms that had been submerged suddenly felt ice cold to the cavern air, "Lad, you're freezing!"

Chekov, still struggling to catch his breath, was grateful when Scotty didn't say anything else, but reached over for his clothes. They were warm... Chekov looked up at Scotty with something like reverence, realizing he'd put them on a crystal to warm after Chekov left, "Zhank you..." He panted softly. Scotty's hands fumbled.

"Don't mention it." Although he meant it literally, "No more talking." He said, helping Chekov get the shirt on while keeping the jacket over his shoulders. The jacket was a little big on Scotty, so it covered up all the important parts on Chekov just fine. But when he helped Chekov stand so he could get his pants on, Scotty was suddenly, acutely aware that Chekov was naked from the waist down, and leaning _into_ him. And when Chekov's hands were trembling too much to fasten the front of his pants, Scotty did it for him, trying to hide the fact that his hands were trembling, too.

The more instinctual desire to not freeze to death replacing Chekov's previous shyness was both a blessing and a curse.

As Scotty helped him with his pants, he noticed Chekov was holding onto something, "What've ye got there, lad?"

"I do not know..." Chekov mumbled back, voice a little groggy, "From ze crash, I zhink." He leaned into Scotty a little more.

"Woah there." Scotty held him to him, sitting him back down onto the smooth rocked floor, "What's wrong, are you okay?"

Chekov nodded adamantly, "Yes, yes, I..." But he kept leaning into him, "I am... tired."

"Oh...no, no, you can't fall sleep." Scotty started, "I've heard enough times about people falling asleep when they're cold. No, you're staying _awake_." He instructed him, but it just resulted in a small, breathless laugh from Chekov and more leaning, "Hey..." His voice softened, dipping his head down to look Chekov in the eye, "Are you listening to me?"

That was a mistake. Chekov looked on the verge of passing out, gazing up at Scotty with just enough helplessness and desire to make the next word out of his mouth make Scotty feel like the most immoral Scotsman in the universe.

"Please..."

Scotty gaped stupidly for a moment. He looked around, then sighed, "Alright." He sat down with him, letting Chekov lean on him, "But just for a bit, okay?"

Chekov's head sunk gratefully onto Scotty's chest, and Scotty took that to mean "okay". He adjusted them a little so they were in a little pocket of heat created by two adjoining crystals, one shining a little more green than blue.

Scotty sighed. Determinedly, he kept his eyes on Chekov for what must've been ten minutes, watching his chest rise and fall through an opening in his jacket. _His_ jacket. It looked good on him. Damnit. Scotty's eyes finally moved, still listening to Chekov's gentle breathing. Breathing was good. He didn't need to be a doctor to know that. But that's when he noticed it. Again. Something in Chekov's hand. It was sliding out a bit in his sleep, and after berating himself for thinking that was cute (really, what was wrong with him?) Scotty gently pried it out.

Scotty didn't notice when Chekov's breathing changed, his mind was suddenly short-circuited by the object Chekov had found. From the crash, he said. That was why they went down to the planet in the first place. A probe had gotten sucked down to the planet miles before it entered orbit. They assumed they had miscalculated for density and wanted to see what the planet was made of. That and they wanted to collect the probe.

The probe, that still had the detector device, which was in Chekov's hand. Granted, it wasn't working after the crash, but here it was. Chekov had found it!  
  
An exit, an entrance, whatever this cavern was connected to, that was where the probe had crashed, and Chekov found the single piece of equipment that would save their lives. Chekov, who had stirred... and was now taking his shirt off.

Scotty nearly did a double take, "Oy, lad, what are ye doing?" He tried to stop him, but he had to set the device down first, and Chekov was already naked from the hips up and huddling back under the jacket, "It's warm..." He mumbled, almost incoherently.

Scotty swallowed, "No, it's not. That's yer body playing tricks." He swallowed again. He picked the shirt up, but it was damp, almost wet, "Damnit." How did he not realize? Warm clothes meant nothing if you didn't towel off first (Scotty knew that one first hand). He didn't realize he was feeling up Chekov's legs until he'd already started. His pants were just a little damp, and Chekov was... oh, he was laying back on him again. Scotty's hands flew off of him, but he settled back down when Chekov didn't seem to notice, or care, how close they were anymore.

"Are... are ye comfortable?"

"Da."

Scotty swallowed, "Good." He said, and that was it. He felt like something was lodged in his throat. He put an arm around his jacket, taking a breath, and when Chekov started to doze again, Scotty decided he should at least make himself comfortable, too. He lay back against a crystal, which wasn't that comfortable, but Chekov putting an arm over him, cuddling up to him, was _very_ comfortable. Scotty took another deep breath and rested his head on his bicep, watching Chekov sleep until, the next thing he knew, he was drifting off, too.

Scotty dreamt he was the Enterprise, and with no effective means of communicating to the crew aside from moodily shutting the doors on their tails ("Remind me to do a systems check." Jim said), he had to endure them piloting him around like a pack of hyenas in yellow shirts. His only solace was that Ensign Chekov had taken over Engineering in light of Mr. Scott's mysterious absence, and he was doing a fine job. In fact, more than fine. It felt good - Chekov knew just how to get those engines purring...

Scotty awoke with a start. Well, maybe not all that big of one, because it didn't wake Chekov. The crystals were flickering slowly now, almost like a pulse. He didn't know what that meant, but at some point while they slept, Scotty's arm had migrated under his jacket, and his arm was now around Chekov's bare waist. He could feel a sliver of Chekov's stomach pressing up against a spot on his hip where his own shirt had ridden up. The desperate sound Scotty made was, luckily, inaudible.

Chekov had managed to move while they slept, too. He was now laying almost completely atop Scotty, one leg draped over Scotty's own and, oh god, his _erection_ pressing into Scotty's thigh.

Scotty took deep breaths, trying to keep himself calm. But... Chekov kept making tiny movements in his sleep. He sounded like he was dreaming.

If he was that far into sleep, it didn't mean anything, Scotty told himself. Chekov was a young man, that sort of thing happened all the time. Hell, it happened to Scotty all the time. But, his skin felt so soft under Scotty's arm, and before he knew it, he was feeling Chekov's side gently. Chekov moved again, this time his leg, pressing himself a little more into Scotty's thigh.

Did... Chekov like that? Scotty tried it again, just gently stroking up Chekov's back, an almost innocent gesture, if it didn't result in Chekov making a small sound and shifting against Scotty a little more. Scotty could swear he heard his accent in that sound. But then...

Chekov was moving.

It's wasn't like before. He was shifting higher up on Scotty's body, nuzzling into Scotty's shoulder, while below he straddled hip, his thigh pressing up against what was almost at once Scotty's erection.

Scotty gasped, "Laddie..." He tried to wake him. Or at least, he thought that was a try. It ended up being more or less a squeak, and Chekov responded with a sleepy noise, rubbing his arousal against Scotty's hip as he felt Scotty's hand smooth up his bare skin again.

"Oh... lad, lad." Scotty spoke a little more persistently that time, feeling himself getting absolutely hard, but unable to stop it. Chekov... he felt so good.

Chekov woke up.

All at once, Scotty was staring down at those blue eyes, almost glowing in the crystal luminance. It took a very quiet moment for Scotty to realize how un-quiet they had just been. Chekov started to get up.

"Ah... sorry." Scotty mumbled, removing his arm from under the jacket as Chekov moved away.

Chekov felt like he'd just come out of water again. He had a dream that he was under again, but Scotty was there. The crystals were pulsing, and they were...

"Lad..." Scotty said softly, sitting up properly. He looked heart-broken, "I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have touched ye. You fell asleep and I... and..." But that heart-broken look only worsened as Chekov seemed to go from confusion to realization to devastation in a single pulse of light. He got up suddenly, pulling the jacket closed over his bare chest and what was an unmistakable erection. He looked like he was going to be sick.

"Chekov..." Scotty's voice almost gave out. He got up, too, "Hey, that wanae yer fault. That was me. I shouldnae let ye fall asleep... I shouldnae let _myself_ fall asleep, I..." He picked up Chekov's damp shirt helplessly, standing behind him, "Chekov, look at me!" He begged him. But when he had bent down, something had caught his eye. There was blood on his shirt. There was _blood_ on _his_ shirt? Immediately, Scotty checked his skin, but of course it wasn't him. It was... "Chekov! _Look_ at me." He urged him, taking him by the arm.

Chekov must've heard his tone change because he turned as Scotty touched him. Scotty dropped his hand immediately, but his eyes fell to Chekov's stomach. There was a small scraping of cuts and damaged skin along the taut skin, as if he'd been cut by a rock or something down in the water.

Surprise broke through Chekov's tattered expression, "I... I did not notice..."

The skin around it looked blue. Not blue like the light, but like his actual skin was a different colour near the cuts.

He looked up at Scotty, "I..." But the moment he looked at him, he didn't know what to say. He looked away, his expression so lost that Scotty's sobered up.

"Hey, we'll fix it. Okay? C'mere." He said, coaxing him to him, "There might be something in the kit." He said, going back to the bag he'd been carrying when they fell. There was a bunch of supplies in there, and sure enough, that damn doctor had put antiseptic and gauze.

Chekov followed him quietly, and when Scotty approached with the antiseptic, not sure how to proceed, Chekov took it from him, "I kin do eet." He said, something tense in his throat.

Scotty let him, too afraid to say anything. He didn't know anything about fixing humans. All he knew how to fix was... "The detector!" He remembered, moving back to where they'd fallen asleep and Scotty had set down the blessed device, "Chekov, do you know what this is?"

Chekov turned to look at him, curiosity getting the best of him, "What eez eet?"

Scotty was finally smiling again. He sat down with the bag, opening it up and pulling out some supplies, "This is what communicates with the teleporter on the Enterprise so they can beam the probe back. Well, _could_ beam her back, once she was finished. Poor thing never got a chance. Hopefully it still works." He said, already opening it up and poking around its circuitry.

Chekov's eyebrows raised, "So, we are saved?"

Scotty's eyes flicked from the detector to Chekov, smiling wide, "Yes, we are saved. Thanks to you."

Scotty had to blink a few times, but he was pretty sure he saw Chekov blush. No, he definitely saw Chekov blush. _Chekov_.

Chekov didn't say a word, he just turned back around to finish his bandage, having made a sound that sounded like it was _supposed_ to be a word, but died in his throat as he turned.

For some reason, that made Scotty's engine purr more than all the dry humping in the world. A wave of fresh guilt poured over his excitement, making him feel very weird indeed. Almost too weird to work on the detector instead of going over to Chekov. But, he needed to tend to that wound, a wound that would be in vain if Scotty couldn't fix this damn device. He shifted uncomfortably on the hard, rock floor then kept working.

After a few moments, Chekov had finished and come over to him. He kept some distance between them, but gradually, Scotty felt him move closer. And closer. Finally, he was watching Scotty work, peering past his hands curiously.

"Why do you not just recross those wires?" He asked, his voice almost startling Scotty in the silence.

Nowhere near as much as his own stupidity, however.

Scotty blinked, almost offended, "Well, I..." How had he not thought to recross the wires?

Chekov seemed to sense that the offense wasn't meant for him, so he continued to watch as, after collecting himself, Scotty set everything else aside, and recrossed those wires.

The tiny bulb on the front of the machine flared to life.

Scotty looked up at Chekov, like he'd just run a mile. A very, aggravating, _completely_ unnecessary mile.

Chekov didn't move, "Eet eez work?"

Scotty let out a long, cathartic sigh, "Yes. It is."

Chekov looked pleased with himself, a look that, for some reason, was so relieving that it made Scotty laugh, "Chekov." He sat back, laughing with the machine between them, "Oh, Chekov. God, it works. You saved us." He looked at him in awe.

Chekov smiled, too, sitting back, a bit of white bandage poking out from beneath the zipped up jacket.

Scotty wiped his eyes, his laughter fading.

Chekov's smile faded as well, staring off at the crystals. Finally, "What do we do now?"

Scotty sniffed, sitting up straight, "Well, we wait for the Enterprise to come back around." He said, "Hopefully it's not too late."

The planet suddenly seem incredibly vast to Chekov, and the cavern, very, very small.

"Chekov." Scotty drew his gaze away from the watery pool in the corner of the room.

Chekov glanced over at him, unable to look him in the eye for long.

Scotty sighed, shifting forward, "Lad, you didn't do anything wrong. You almost... died. You came back around and saved our lives and... I should've taken care of ye."

"You did."

"No. No lad, I didn't." He looked at him, catching Chekov's eye, "I over stepped my boundaries, by about a few hundred parsecs." He laughed, but his tone was serious, apologetic, "I shouldn't've let any o' that happen. I'm sorry."

For some reason, it looked like that wasn't the speech Chekov had wanted to hear. He looked uneasy, even a little defeated.

"Lad?"

Chekov's eyes had fallen back to the crystals, but this time... "They hawe stopped moowing." He realized, and suddenly Scotty noticed it to.

"Aye, yeah they have."

The crystal's pulsing glow must have stopped during their conversation. Did the whole planet glow like that at once?

For the first time, Scotty found himself recalling what the surface of the planet was like, and, as if in some weird harmony, a mind-meld with his ship, the crystals began to shine even brighter, and the detector crackled to life.

" _Scotty, Mr. Chekov, come in. Do you read me? Repeat..._ "

"Aye, yeah we hear ya." Scotty picked up the detector, "Didn't know this thing could talk."

" _You always have underestimated simple machinery..._ " The smug, smooth voice replied.

"Simple machinery my _ass!_ This thing is held together with _Gaffer's_ tape! And...!"

Sulu laughed, " _Alright, alright. Do you two want to be beamed up or not?_ "

Chekov took the detector away from him, "Yes, please."

" _There we go. Two for beaming, stand by._ "

Scotty sighed in relief, glancing at Chekov with a weary, but genuine smile. Chekov laughed softly, taking one more look at the dark opening before it started to phase out of sight.


End file.
